


The Best of all Possible Worlds

by Sapphy



Series: Nothing Hurts X-Men 'Verse [1]
Category: Marvel (Comics), X-Men (Comicverse), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Age Changes, Boarding School, Canon Autistic Character, Canon Character of Color, Canon Jewish Character, Canon Queer Character, Canon Queer Character of Color, Catholic Character, Coming Out, Cooking, Eid ul-Fitr, Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, Female Character of Color, Friendship, Gen, Healing, Interfaith, Jain Character, LGBTQ Character, LGBTQ Character of Color, Lesbian Character, Male Character of Color, Muslim Character, Muslim Holidays, Past Child Abuse, Polyamory, Prayer, Queer Character, Recovery, Religion, Sex Education, Teaching, Trauma, Wedding Fluff, Wiccan Character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-01
Updated: 2018-06-23
Packaged: 2018-07-11 13:42:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7054123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sapphy/pseuds/Sapphy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Life at the Charles Xavier Academy isn't always death and drama. Sometimes things are peaceful.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. How Remy got a job working with kids

**Author's Note:**

> So the ages have been pretty severly shuffled in this, though I've kept everyone roughly in the right generation. X-kids age at radically different rates from one another, so I've largely ignored things like how old are they, relative to one another, and gone with how mature are the versions of the characters I love best. This results in things like Evan Saba-Nur and Laura Kinney being the same age.
> 
> In general, every character who appears will be an x-character, though I've borrowed a couple from other comics.
> 
> This fic is going to be prompt based. You can ask your questions in the comments, or submit them at sapphywatchesyousleep.tumblr.com

“Ah quit,” Rogue declared, collapsing into one of the staff-room armchairs. “Ah don’t care how much ya beg me, ah’m not teaching one more health class to those kids. The things they ask! They’d make an 80 year old whore blush to her roots, ah swear.”

“It can’t be that bad,” Scott said. “They’re only kids.”

“They’re teenagers with unlimited access to the internet,” Jono pointed out. (Firewalls had been attempted, but they’d lasted all of ten minutes, and in the end even Prodigy had given up trying.) “It can absolutely be that bad. Why’d you think I refused to do it?”

“It’s important the children get their questions answered by someone with their best interests at heart,” Ororo said, giving Rogue a look that, on anyone less regal, would be described as puppy-dog eyes. “They trust you.”

“Ah’m a woman of the world, but ah don’t know enough to answer half the questions they ask, and that’s the honest truth. F’one thing, ah ain’t polyamorous, and f’another, ah aint anything like kinky enough f’some of the stuff they want to know about.”

“Well it shouldn’t be too hard to find someone who fits those criteria in this school,” Ororo says, looking round at her colleagues with a twinkle in her eye. “That would describe most of the people in this room.”

“Not me,” Logan said immediately, holding his hands up. “I’m a one woman guy ‘Ro, you know that.”

“I wasn’t thinking of you, dearheart,” Ororo assured him. “They’d scare you off in under ten minutes, I’ve no doubt. Hank? You’re already teaching biology. This would seem a logical extension of your role.”

“I’m certainly willing to give it a try,” Hank replied agreeably, “though I can’t see that I’d be any better at it than Rogue. I can tell them about the biological side of things of course, but what I know of polyamory comes entirely from observing my peers, and while I’m not unfamiliar with the, ah, more extreme end of the sexual spectrum, shall we say, I really wouldn’t be comfortable sharing those experiences with the students. Some things are private, even for an X-man.”

Ororo looked around the room, seeking inspiration. “Prodigy?”

“Right now, I’ve managed to get the number of questions about whether my powers translate into sex down to just three a week. I’d like to keep it that low.”

“Fair,” Logan says, twitching his lips in something that’s almost but not quite a smile.

“Emma?” Ororo asked. “You’re pretty much unshockable, and your gift has got to have given you an almost unrivalled knowledge of human sexuality.”

“I spend enough mental energy trying to block out the student’s sexual fantasies as it is,” Emma said, inspecting her perfect nails. “I refused to be exposed to any more of them than is absolutely unavoidable.”

“Sam?”

Most of the staff peered around them, looking for the young flight instructor, who was actually in the middle of teaching a class on the other side of the campus.

“Shy about sex,” Emma said, “and mostly straight to boot.”

“Which also rules out Kurt,” Ororo said, tapping her foot. “This is ridiculous. Between us, one of us must be knowledgeable enough to teach teenagers about sex and relationships. Surely someone…”

“Bonjour, mes amis!”

As one person, the staff turned to look at Remy, who was standing in the doorway, suitcase sitting at his feet, smiling round at them all.

“No, ‘Ro,” Logan said urgently. “Don’t do it.”

“You must admit, he’s the perfect candidate.”

“Too perfect. Just ‘cos the kids want to know everything, doesn’t mean they actually need to.”

“He’s the only option.”

Remy glanced between them, looking worried. “Amis?”

Ororo smiled at him. “Remy. How’d you like to be a teacher?”


	2. How the school got an Interfaith Prayer Room

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aurelie's religion is not canon - basically nothing about her is, she dies pretty soon after she appears, and she's always a background character. I just wanted to represent religions other than Abrahamic in the discussion, and the fact that she's named for a magical spirit (she goes by Naiad) suggested at least some interest in non-traditional beliefs.

“This is ridiculous!” Sooraya exclaimed, abaya flaring as she stormed up to where Laura was lying on the grass sunning herself. “All I want is to pray Zuhr before afternoon lessons, and there isn’t a single room free anywhere on campus! The study rooms are all booked, there’s an exam in the music room and the danger room attacked me last time I tried to use it!”

“Why not use your room?” Laura asked, not bothering to open her eyes. “Iara won’t be there at this time of day.”

“There isn’t space! Everywhere is covered in Iara’s things, and when I ask her to tidy, she says she will do it later. Always later, and never now!”

“Could be worse,” Paras said, as he walked past with his roomate. “The last time I tried to meditate in my room, Vic started shaking me because he thought I’d fallen asleep!”

“I said sorry,” Vic muttered, blushing green.

“I keep saying we need bigger rooms,” Aurelie said, coming up to join the conversation. “Right now I’m using a shoe box as an altar because there’s no room for anything bigger!”

“So ask the headmistress for somewhere to pray,” Laura suggested, shrugging. “It’s not like they don’t build new classrooms all the time when the old ones get destroyed. It shouldn’t be hard to just make an extra room.”

“Yeah, but how many?” Aurelia said. “We can’t just give the muslims one, that’s not fair on the rest of us. And then how to we decide? Obviously the muslim students should get one, and probably the Christian ones too, since they’re the majority, and a lot of the teachers are Jewish, but what about the rest of us? I think I’m the only Wiccan student, do I get a room? Or Paras? We haven’t got many Hindu students.”

“I believe Paras is Jain,” Sooraya said. “And what you say is true. I would not feel right being given a space if the same was not given to the other students.”

“Kurt’s coming,” Laura said. “Can smell him. Ask him.”

“Guten Tag, studenten. And what has you all looking so serious?”

“Hello Professor. We were talking about the need for spaces for students to pray,” Sooraya greeted him. “I have been trying to find somewhere for my noon prayer, but everywhere seems full. And Paras and Aurelie say they have similar problems.”

“Only last week, Oya mentioned that she wished she did not have to travel into town when she wished to speak to God,” Kurt said, looking thoughtful. “Perhaps I will speak to the headmistress about creating a chapel. Many hospitals have ones which cater to all faiths.”

“No they don’t,” Aurelie said at once. “They just put ‘multifaith’ on the door and think that makes it okay that it’s still a Christian space. Me and Sooraya and Paras would all need different things from the room, and pews and crucifixes doesn’t work for any of us.”

“I would not be comfortable praying in a space which belonged to another faith,” Sooraya said. “It would seem disrespectful both to the Christian students, and to Allah.”

“Hmm.” Kurt crouched, arms resting on his knees, tail flicking as he thought. “Do any of you have any suggestions?”

“Well, the room could change to whatever people needed, like the danger-room does,” Laura suggested. “Seems the obvious solution to me.”

“That’s fine as far as it goes,” Aurelie agreed, “But what about my things? My athame, and my goddess idol, doesn’t matter how good a copy the danger room makes, they won’t be the items I dedicated.”

“I need somewhere to leave my shoes,” Sooraya says. “And to perform wudu.”

“Lockers,” Vic suggests. “Give any student who requests it a locker where they can keep any stuff they need, and put in a wash room, and then the actual prayer room itself can be danger room, like Laura said.”

Kurt looked around at them all. “Would that would for all of you? I would be happy to pray in such a space.”

Sooraya nods. “It could work. We would need to arrange a schedule. I do not know… when do others need to pray?”

“I’d like to hold mass on Sundays,” Kurt said, tail flicking. “Or perhaps something a little more non-denominational. I will ask Kitty if she would like to organise Shabbat prayers, or even something more regular. And you, liebchin?”

Aurelie shrugs. “I perform rituals when I wish to. I don’t keep a strict schedule. Being guaranteed a space on Sabbats would be nice.”

“Somewhere to meditate sometimes would be good,” Parras said. “But I can fit it in around other people.”

Kurt smiled round at them all, that bright devil’s grin. “I will speak to the headmistress at once,” he promised. “I will not permit the spiritual life of my students to be neglected.”


	3. How Eleanor Wilson gained a new friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> for Star, who requested this on tumblr

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My first use of non-X characters:
> 
> Ellie is Eleanor Camacho, Deadpool's daughter. Since weapon X actually surgically grafted the X-gene into his DNA (because comics) he's not technically a mutant, but logically he should be able to pass it on, thus making Ellie one. She probably won't turn out to be in comics, but since she's only about 10 right now, we probably won't find out for a while.
> 
> The step-mom she describes is Deadpool's wife Shiklah - she's kickass, and rules a secret underground city of monsters.
> 
> Angelica is an original character. I imagine her as looking something like a cross between the Pokemon Scizor and a human being. I couldn't think of an appropriate existing x-kid for the scenario I was imagining.

Illyana watches the girl cry, and feels helpless. 

She is a teacher, she should be able to offer some comfort, but what would she say? It is okay that you are a monster, I am one too? It is alright that you killed those men, even though I know you'll see their faces in your dreams for the rest of your life? It is okay that you will never be able to go outside without humans staring? She is no good at offering comfort. She does not know how. She is not this girl's family, she cannot heal her simply by being close as Piotr has done for her. And the other person who had helped her to heal had been Kitty, and that... She bites her lip to hold back a totally inappropriate snort of laughter. Kisses from a 25 year old demon witch would not be so comforting as those offered by a sweet and gentle teenage girl had been, a decade ago. 

She does not know how to comfort in ways that might help this child, but she must at least try.

But before she can move she notices Eleanor Wilson detach herself from a knot of giggling second years and make her way over to the crying girl. 

"Hey,” Ellie says, shoving her hands into the pockets of her uniform shorts. "You're Angelica, right? I'm Ellie. Want to come eat lunch with me? The cafeteria can be a bit intimidating if you're not used to it." 

"You don't want to talk to me," Angelica says, her voice dull. "I'm a monster." 

"I saw what happened on the news," Ellie says. It had been on every channel, another story proving mutants weren't safe, and never mind that it had been the human attackers who caused the girl's powers to manifest in such a violent way. "It wasn't your fault. You're not a monster." 

Angelica hunches her shoulders, the gleaming red of her armoured carapace half hiding her face. "I am." 

Ellie frowns. "Okay, say you're right, say you're a monster, so what? Some of my best friends are monsters, literally. My friend Melissa is an Abyssal Wyrm of the Ninth Pit. I've known her since I was six and I still can't look her in the eyes without screaming. Doesn't mean she's not one of my best friends." Illyana had not known there were any Abyssal Wyrm’s on this plain of existence. She makes a mental note to check up on it later. It would not do to have her students consumed by Cthonic madness on her watch.

"I'm a murderer," Angelica protests, but she didn't sound so sure, now. The jut of armour, or exoskeleton, or whatever it is on her shoulders lowers a little, letting Illyana see more of her face, the flat nose and broad mouth, and the inhumanly dark eyes, black from side to side.

"You were scared and angry and you lost control,” Ellie says. Her posture has changed from the deliberately relaxed stance she had adopted earlier. She’s almost straining forward, eyes wide, as though willing Angelica to believe her. “That's what people do when they're upset. It's not your fault fate decided to give you really destructive powers at that exact moment! There was no way you could have known what would happen. How can it be your fault if you didn't know it would happen?" 

"I blow up buildings when I lose my temper!"

Illyana notes with interest the way the plates of the girls armour move when she does, scraping very slightly against one another to create a low creaking sound. She was used to students coming in all shapes and sizes, but it was still always fascinating when they had one who’s physical mutations were new to her. The variety of form and colour the X-gene was capable of producing was an amazing thing. It was something she had learned to appreciate from her family, both chosen and blood.

Ellie grins. "See those guys over there?" she asks, pointing to where Evan and David are quietly talking. "That's my cuz, Evan. He's got the potential to turn into one of the most evil beings in history. There's at least one version of the future where he does. And the boy with him, the one who looks like he just stuck his hand in a power outlet? He's probably the most powerful mutant of all time. If he ever really lost it, he could literally destroy the world, and it wouldn't even be that difficult. And you know what? They're two of the nicest guys you'll ever meet. Or Evan is. David is an asshole who’s too embarrassed to just own up that it was him who broke my game boy.”

Angelica turns to stare at the two boys, probably trying to see the power in them. Illyana herself learnt long ago that looks tell you nothing of a person’s abilities, but she has to admit that David, in his too loose school sweater and untied shoes, doesn’t look like a potential threat.

After a moment, Angelica shakes her head and turns back to look at Ellie. “I don’t understand why you’re doing all this! I don’t understand why you’re trying to make me feel better, when all you know about me is that I’ve killed people.”

Illyana expects Ellie to mention her father, or her step-mother, or her beloved Uncle Logan, or any of the other murderers she calls family, but instead she smiles, small and soft, and says, “Because you’re scared, and lonely, and this is supposed to be a place where people are happy. And because you’re pretty.”

“Pretty?! I look like, like, like a monster!”

Ellie shrugs, and grins in a way that makes it suddenly obvious that she’s Wade Wilson’s daughter. “My step-mom’s true form is eight foot tall, purple and with fangs longer than my fingers, so I maybe have weird ideas about what’s attractive. I still think you’re cute though.”

Perhaps, Illyana thinks, kisses from sweet, if not always gentle, teenage girl would prove to be as comforting for Angelica as they had been for herself.

She smiles herself, and then jumps as hands cover her eyes. “Guess who!” a familiar beloved voice says, close enough to her ear to make her shiver.

“My dearest heart,” she says, leaning back against Kitty’s warm body.

“Sap,” Kitty says happily, dropping her arms to encircle Illyana’s waist. “What are you doing?”

Illyana smiles to herself. “Watching history repeat itself, in the best of ways.”


	4. How Daken got a protege

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The only major change to canon here is how long Daken was with Romulus. In the 616, it's at least 50 years of torture, manipulation and heavily implied sexual abuse. The whole thing gets more fucked up when you remember Daken was eleven when Romulus took him.
> 
> My Daken was with Romulus for twenty years - still plenty of time for the damage to be terrible, but he's had longer to recover. He's not a good person, but he's not nearly so fundamentally broken as the one we often see in comics. Think his appearances in Wolverines, or the Runaways, rather than Origins.
> 
> The girl being discussed is Laurie Collins, aka Wallflower, and she actually does have the same pheromone powers as Daken, although without the healing factor, claws, or horrifyingly Machiavellian mind.

“Please repeat that Logan,” Daken said carefully. “I feel quite sure I must have misheard you, because the last time we spoke, you did not seem to be mad.”

Logan sighs, and rubs his face. He is sure that this is the worst idea he’s ever had, but he doesn’t have any alternatives. “You heard me right the first time, Aki. Me ‘n ‘Ro want yer to train one of the kids.”

“And what should I train her to be?” Daken asks, apparently too fascinated by -his father’s request to even object to being called by his birth name. “Shall I train her as a rapist, or a murderer? Or perhaps Otousan would like me to train her to be a failed Patricide? Or a successful matricide? Or do you just think she needs a makeover?”

Logan sighed. “She’s got pheromone powers, an’ she can’t control them. Poor kid’s going half mad never knowing whether she’s influencing people, isolating herself because she thinks her friends are under her control.”

“Tragic,” Daken drawls, his tone dripping with insincerity. “What has this to do with me?”

“I’ve never met anybody, mutant or not, whose control over their power is as good as yours. I want you to teach her that control.”

Daken laughs, rough and bitter. “Do you hate the girl so very much?” he mocks. “Or have you forgotten how I gained my control?”

“You know it doesn’t work like that, Aki. Your control comes from practise and willpower, the things that monster did to you don’t come into it!”

“Don’t call me Aki.” Daken’s voice was ice. “It’s not my name.”

“It was once.”

“No. There was a little boy called Akihiro. He died to create me. You will use my chosen name, or you will not address me.”

“I will not call my own son Mongrel!”

Daken shrugs. “Then do not speak to me. That was my preferred option in any case.”

“Please, A… son. I know you’re scared you’ll hurt her, but I believe in you. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t think you could do it.”

“Is that why you think I am turning you down? Logan, I couldn’t care less about hurting this girl, what is she to me? At best an irrelevance, at worst, an insect. What I do not understand is why you are not afraid. You say you believe in me, but you have no reason to do so. I have proven to you again and again that I will not be reformed. I am not a good person, and I have no intention of changing. What makes you think I would not use this girl as a weapon against you?”

“You could,” Logan agrees. “But you understand the monstrosity of what was done to you, and you’ve never wanted to be a monster. I’m not asking you to stop yer crimes, I’m just askin’ yer to put some time aside to help Laurie, because she’s scared and confused and I believe that you’re the best person to help her. Pheromone powers are rare, and you’ve had sixty years to learn how to use them. You’re the best there is.”

Daken tips his head so that his hair half covers his expression. “This is a ruse. Some trick to get me into the mansion so you can have one of your pet telepaths fix me.”

“No. On my honour.”

“You have no more honour than I do,” Daken snarls, but a moment later he leans back in his seat. “Say I do this. What’s to stop me killing the girl?”

“Well firstly, you’ve got no reason to. If you say no, I can’t force you, and you don’t kill without reason. Secondly, I think you’ll find you enjoy teaching. And thirdly, you know what it’s like to be in that girl’s position, and you’re not a monster.”

Daken laughed. “I am not an animal,” he corrected. “I am certainly a monster, and I’m not ashamed of that. But perhaps I will do this. I make no promises, but there can be little harm in meeting the child. And if I dislike her, I can always turn her against you for my own amusement.”

Logan smiled. It wasn’t an empty threat, he knew that. Thirty years free of Romulus had done little to endear Logan to Daken, but he was confident enough in his other deductions. Laurie was slight, and young for her age in many ways. She was enough of a child that Daken wouldn’t hurt her, and Logan was sure he’d enjoy the role of Sensei. There was still a high chance that it would go catastrophically wrong, but if it did, it would be through accident rather than design. Which really wasn’t the most comforting thought.


	5. How Wendy let teenagers run amok in her kitchens

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eid Mubarak!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wendy is named for a woman I went to university with, who had six foster children, all of them disabled, a part time job and a regular church group, and still managed to fit in a degree. I'm pretty certain it's never been addressed where the food comes from, and since the non-teaching staff seem to consist of Toad and Doop (neither of whom should ever ever cook for people) I invented Wendy.

Wendy ruled over the kitchens of the X-academy with an iron fist. Literally. When your arms turned to organic steel at the elbows, catering was an obvious career choice. She never burnt herself, never cut herself, and the cool surface of the metal meant she make the lightest pastry.

Normally students were strictly banned from coming within a ten foot radius of the kitchens. She’d been in charge of them for more than a decade, and she knew exactly how much super-powered kids would eat if left to their own devices.

Today was different. As she did for Diwali, Hanukkah and Epiphany, she was turning her kitchen over the students for Eid. Specifically to Sooraya, who seems a sensible responsible sort of girl, and the La Croix twins, who she trusted about as far she could throw them. They were nice kids, but they were the very devil for getting into the larder. The trick, she’d learnt, was to watch Claudette. Nicole was loud and never sat still and liked to be a centre of attention, but Wendy had learnt that that was a distraction to stop you from noticing the quieter Claudette doing whatever it was you didn’t want her to do (in this case, usually stealing cookies or cakes intended for desert in the cafeteria). 

Professor Monroe encouraged all the children to get involved with cooking for their own religious and cultural festivals, using it as a method for teaching cooking, budgeting and planning. They had to work together to devise a menu Wendy approved of, while staying within the budget allocated to them by Professor Drake.

It was the sort of thing most schools didn’t have the time, funds or inclination to do, and Professor Monroe’s insistence that it be included in the school’s annual budget was one of the many reasons Wendy would be sending her grandkids to the school, whether they turned out to have powers or not.

As well as the three Muslim girls, they’d got five of their friends helping, far more kids than Wendy would normally be happy with in her kitchen at one time, but they’re going to need the help if they’re going to manage to feed the entire school, and the worst they could do was use up more ingredients than she’d budgeted for and make a mess, so she was fairly sanguine about the whole experience. It wouldn’t be worse than the teachers – Professor Wagner had left the lid off the mixer when he was making King Cake, and Professor Pride had burnt the bottom out of Wendy’s best pan by forgetting to check on the brisket. 

For the most part, she kept out of the kids way, only stepping in to avert disaster. She gently reminded Sooraya that the couscous was going to take longer than anything else, and that maybe they should worry about that before they started making sweets, reassigned the jobs when someone gave Kid Gladiator the job of chopping the eggplant (she didn’t trust Ellie Wilson as any better than the twins, but at least there was no doubt the girl knew how to handle a knife safely), and took Claudette out into the quiet corridor while Sooraya blended the ingredients for the sweets.

Mahmood from the bakery in town arrived at twelve with his sons, all carrying trays of freshly baked naans, and some boxes of baklava as an Eid present for the kids. Wendy handed out juice boxes to the younger children, and poured coffee for the adults and older kids, and they had a fifteen minute break leaning against the counters and eating the sweet crumbling little pastries.

Mahmood left afterwards with best wishes and lots of cries of ‘Eid Mubarak’ from the excited children, and Wendy didn’t miss the way Sooraya watched the youngest son leave from behind her veil. She smiled to herself. Maybe she could start using some of the older children as assistants on her supply runs. Mohammed was a nice boy, always very quiet and respectful. A little romance between him and Sooraya would be no bad thing.

At one o’clock Professor Wagner came to ask how things were getting along (he was much too polite to just come out and ask whether there was going to be any lunch) and Wendy sent him away with a big tray of the almond cookies she’d ordered from Mahmood to appease the starving rabble.

At ten past, Robert Herman, Vic Borkowski and Jullian Keller came to complain that they were starving to death.

At twenty past, Nga, the Tengu twins and Jia came to ask if dinner was ever going to be ready, in quavering voices that suggested they might cry if the answer was no. Sooraya looked stricken, right up until she spotted Quentin and Iara hiding around the corner, egging the younger ones (clearly chosen for their cuteness) on.

At half past, Sooraya set down her wooden spoon with an air of finality and declared the feast finished.

Several of the male teachers were summoned to carry the huge trays, Sooraya smacked Professor Guthrie for stealing a sweet, and then looked absolutely horrified when she realised what she’d done, and they all made their way in a laughing chattering procession towards the cafeteria.

A great cheer when up from the students when they arrived, but it was honestly and good naturedly meant. The La Croix twins held hands tightly, but they both bowed in response to the cheerful yelling. Sooraya, abaya grey with powdered sugar, tried to take a step back, but Ellie Wilson shoved her forwards to take a bow, and Wendy clapped along with everyone else.

The great trays were set in their places on the counter, and Wendy took a sharp step back to avoid being crushed in the stampeed.

“How did it go?” Professor Monroe asked, coming to stand beside Wendy.

Wendy stood a little straighter, patted her hair to make sure it was still in the knot she’d put it in this morning. “Very well, Headmistress. No major injuries, nothing burned too badly, and they stuck to the ingredients assigned to them.”

“Wonderful. Will you eat with us?”

“Oh I’d better get back and start the clean up!” Teachers and students ate in the cafeteria, the rest of the staff, like herself and Mr Toynbee, ate in the kitchens.

“Nonsense! The mess will wait, and I’m sure we can find you an assistant or two to help with the washing up. I’ve never known Logan break a plate, in all the time I’ve known him.”

Wendy isn’t sure how she feels about having Professor Logan in her kitchen, the man unnerves her for all she knows he’s a good person, but she doesn’t want to refuse the Headmistress, so she smiles and nods and says “Perhaps Professor Summers? He’s always seemed like a careful man.”

“He’s the slowest washer-uper in the world,” the Headmistress says with a grin, “but he remembers were everything needs to be put away if you show him once.”

“Well in that case, I suppose it couldn’t hurt…”

“Wonderful! Come and tell me what everything is, the children are all far too busy eating to explain.”


	6. How Kavita Rao conducted her first wedding

“Are you sure about this?” Kavita asks, smoothing the folds of her Sari. “I mean, I’m not ordained, or even especially religious…”

“Madison does not believe in any God,” Danger says, examining herself in the floor length mirror. “And I do not know of any religion which would accept me as a person, even if I were inclined to faith.”

“Well, point, but there’s plenty of other people…”

“It should be a scientist who marries us,” Danger says firmly. “I am not especially close to Beast even though he is my creator, and I have frequently wished to kill Doctor Nemesis. You are the obvious choice.”

“Because you don’t want to kill me?”

“Because I like and respect you. You have been a friend to me, and I admire your strength and intelligence. That is why I wish you to marry us.”

“And I’m honoured that you asked me, I really am. I guess I’ve just got a bit of stage fright. I’ve never conducted a wedding before!”

“Self could conduct wedding, if self-love Danger wishes,” Warlock offered, carefully arranging the folds of Danger’s veil. “Self has been to many weddings.”

Kavita hid a smile behind her hand. No one had yet been able to persuade Warlock out of referring to his partners as ‘self-love’, despite both Doug and Danger’s best attempts. “If you conduct the wedding, who will walk Danger down the aisle?”

After one too many teary brides weeping for absent parents, a new X-Men tradition had been established. Brides who wanted a traditional wedding would be given away by a team-mate of their choice, which given the nature of their relationships, frequently ended up being a lover. Warlock had been beside himself with excitement at the honour.

Finding a tuxedo that fitted his sharp and angular body had been an exercise in frustration that had nearly driven Doug to drink, despite Madison’s insistence that “everyone can just turn up naked if they like. So long as Danger’s there I don’t give a damn”. In the end, a tailor had been found in mutantown who specialised in making clothes for the less human looking members of their community. It was apparently made of the same unstable molecules Mr Fantastic used to make his suit stretch when he did, and Kavita didn’t want to think about what it must have cost, but so far it hasn’t caught or torn, which makes it a damn sight better than all the normal fabric ones they’d tried.

Danger’s dress is a Van Dyne original, a sleek sheath of pale silver satin, with a subtle pattern that mirrored the sleek curves of Danger’s own design. It looked far more like something that one would wear on the red carpet than it did a wedding dress, but nothing else about this wedding was going to be traditional, so it was hardly a surprise that the dress was unusual as well.

The guests were all superheroes, the bride was an artificial intelligence, and Nemesis had appointed himself as best man and Madison apparently hadn’t objected enough to stop him. They were all looking forward to the speeches.

Warlock gave the veil one last fluff, moving carefully to avoid snagging the tulle with his fingers, and stood back. His face made reading his subtler emotions difficult, but Kavita was pretty sure that if he were human, he’d be tearing up.

“Self has never seen anything as beautiful as you, self-love Danger,” he said, smiling at her. “Self-friend Madison is a very lucky man.”

“Self-friend Madison is about to have a breakdown if we don’t get this show on the road,” a voice from the doorway says, and Emma smiles at them. In deference to the occasion, she’s wearing gold rather than her usual white, and she looks much less severe than she normally does. “Doug’s spent all morning convincing him you’re not going to change your mind, and Nemesis has not been helping.”

Kavita frowned. “I thought I’d convinced him to stay away until he was needed.”

Emma smile softens. “You know how fond he is of Madison. He wanted to be there for him, even if what he’s actually doing is giving the poor man a breakdown.”

“I’d better get going then,” Kavita said, picking up the notes she’d made herself for a ceremony. She’d rehearsed it a thousand times, but she was still terrified she was going to forget something important. She was touched and honoured that her friends had chosen her to perform the ceremony, and she didn’t want anything to go wrong for them. “I’ll see you in there. Look after her, Warlock.”

“Self will protect Self-love Danger with Self’s life,” Warlock said, squaring his shoulders as though he expected to need to fight off monsters at any second.

It wouldn’t be needed. X-weddings had the best security anyone could ask her, and the Avengers had promised to handle any incoming threats. Today was to be a day of celebration.


	7. How Bobby got some much needed life advice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pride month is nearly over, but there's still time to have Daken taking his rightful place as an Elder Queer, dispensing bitchiness and good advice to those who need it. (He will never admit that that's what he's doing.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Coming out is a choice, always, and it's one that no one can or should make for you. If you're not ready, if you're not safe, if you just don't feel the need to be out to everyone you know, that's up to you. I know Pride Month is a lot of a wall to wall 'out and proud' messages, but I don't want anyone to read this and think I'm trying to tell people to come out. It's your choice, always.

Bobby lurks out of sight while Daken says goodbye to his student, and tries not to feel like a creep.

It’s good to see Laurie smile. She’s always so serious these days, as well as being naturally shy, but she’s smiling at Daken as he rearranges her scarf so that it drapes more elegantly. Bobby doesn’t know anything about fashion, but even he can see that Laurie’s dressing better these days, and he can’t help finding it sort of adorable that Daken can’t resist styling her. The open trusting way Laurie looks at him is even more adorable.

They’d all been concerned at first, when Logan asked Daken to tutor her, but Storm had answered every criticism with absolute faith that her step-son would not hurt a child without reason, and she’s been proved right. Laurie’s control is improving daily, and Rachel remorts no mental ill-effects except a mild crush. (And that’s hardly surprising when Daken looks like… well, Daken.)

Finally she says goodbye, waving and thanking him in clumsy Japanese. Daken just smiles in response, smaller and softer than his usual smirks. Adorable.

Bobby waits until he's sure Laurie is out if earshot before slipping into the classroom.

Daken’s packing some books back into a brown leather man bag. Unsurprisingly it coordinates perfectly with his shoes and belt.

“You want something snowflake?” he asks without turning around.

“I. ..” So not the moment to turn shy. “Yes, actually.”

“Pale blue does nothing for you. Washes you out.”

“Good to know. Not actually what I wanted to ask you.” Come on Drake, it's now or never. “You're like the most out person I've ever met and I wanted to ask you…”

“I am not having sex with you in this school.”

People joke about the ferals, but they really are territorial. At least he knows Daken well enough that he’d been prepared for that gambit. The first couple of times Daken hit on him had left him a nervous incoherent wreck. “Obviously. I wouldn't ask you to in your bio-dad’s home.”

“It's not him I'm concerned about,” Daken mutters, and his eyes flick to the window. Outside Storm is teaching a flight class.

“Or your stepmom,” Bobby amends. “That wasn't what I wanted to ask you anyway.”

“So ask, Snowflake. I don't have all day.”

What does Daken actually do when he's not at the school, Bobby wonders. He mentors Laurie, occasionally helps out Remy with his sex ed class, allows Storm to bully him into having tea with her about once a month, but apart from that no one seems to actually know. He doesn't seem to be committing many crimes lately, or at least not high profile ones.

“I wanted to ask if… I wanted to ask whether being out made a difference. If being out as a mutant and a…”

“Queer?” Daken suggests. “I can’t tell you that.”

“I’m not going to tell anyone,” Bobby says hotly. How could Daken even think that?!

“Don’t be ridiculous Snowflake, it doesn’t suit you. I can’t tell you because I don’t know. Coming out requires you to have been in at some point. I was a child, and then I was Romulus’s property, and my bisexuality suited his purposes. Being out, being loud about my queerness, was never a choice.”

“Oh. But you still…”

“I don’t hate the creature he made me into, much as it would please my father if I did. I enjoy the skills he taught me, and the control. I enjoy being flamboyant, in my own way.”

“Don’t you ever think it would be easier? Being straight I mean?”

Sometimes Daken smiles like Sabretooth, just a little too malicious to not be read as a threat by the monkey-brains of everyone who sees it. The worrying thing, Bobby thinks, is that those are most often the smiles he thinks might be real. “What has easy got to do with it? We are mutants. We are, to at least some degree, immortal. We are queer.” Bobby doesn’t bother to correct him - he’s revealed too much of himself for Daken not to have seen the truth. “Nothing about life will ever be easy for us. That doesn’t mean it shouldn’t be enjoyable.”

“And would it be, do you think? For me I mean. Would being out be enjoyable?”

“Have you ever been tied up?” Daken asks, unexpectedly. “By enemies I mean.”

“Once or twice,” Bobby says, thinking of those first years on the team, before he really came into his powers, when he always looked like the easy target compared to the others. Even Jean had looked more threatening than him back then.

“After too long unable to move, you stop feeling the pain in your muscles,” Daken says, and Bobby is certain he is speaking from experience. “You begin to feel like the position in which you are held is natural, even though your rational mind might realise this is because you are going numb. It is not until you are untied that you realise just how awful the previous position was. Even when the blood returning to your limbs hurts, it is still better than the numbness you had been so happy to accept only moments before.

“I think, from what I have seen, that coming out is a little like that. It may be uncomfortable at first, you may think there is nothing wrong with how you are living now, but that is only because you have forgotten how to be free.”

“And what if you don’t? What if you choose to stay tied up?”

Daken shrugs. “Some people are probably fine. Some people find the right moment to come out is much later. Some people end up like Bullseye. The most fascinating thing about the man is that when he says he would rather kill me than fuck me, he believes what he’s saying absolutely, even though anyone with half a brain can see it’s not true.”

“You think I’ll end up wanting to shoot cute guys?!”

“I think you’ll lose sight of what you really want, until you’re so convinced that what you want is something else entirely that you lose all chance to have what you really need.”

“Wow,” Bobby says. “That’s pretty profound.”

“Sometimes I surprise even myself,” Daken says loftily. “Now please get out before I am forced to stab you somewhere messy and unpleasant.” He smiles another Sabretooth smile. “Unlike dear Lester I am entirely sincere in my desire to redecorate with you innards.”

He’s lying, Bobby knows him well enough to see that, but he goes anyway. He’s got a lot to think about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and questions always welcome. This 'verse is mainly prompt based, so feel free to drop suggestions in the comments. Just remember this is a universe where everything is happy and nothing hurts.

**Author's Note:**

> Got questions? Ask them. That's how this fic grows.


End file.
